Luyện nghe bài hát Ballad Of Conley And Billy (the Proof's In The Picken')

Screamin whitewall tires and a guitar by his
Billys got the fever as he on through the night
Some born to listen, some were born to play
He was lightning on the and thunder on the bass

He could it high, he could play it low
He could it cry, he could make it moan
He knows push comes to shove
The proofs in the

In a smoky little tavern just off of Street
Tobacco stained fingers waited on the down
Conley was the master, the king
Hed ruled the town for thirty years an army of six strings

He play it high, he could play it low
He could make it cry, he could it moan
He knows when comes to shove
The in the pickin

Sometimes after midnight, Billy drives New Orleans
Straight to the French Quarter, a man he has to see
The music is a raging like a city thats on
Billy felt just like an altar boy at the feet of a higher

Conley watched as Billy walked across the
Opened his and started a tune
The whole club was silent and the lights were turned low
Billy stepped up on the stage and whispered, Go, son, go

He could play it high, he could it low
He could make it cry, he make it moan
He knows push comes to shove
The in the pickin

held his hand up, no one made a sound
And he handed Bill his old and stepped into the crowd
played it soft, Billy played it sad
Then he it talk and in came the band

Soon the room was
Before Billys of sound
And a block off Bourbon Street
A new been crowned

He could play it high, he play it low
He could make it cry, he could it moan
He knows push comes to shove
The proofs in the